Silent Hunter
by HorseStar1
Summary: When he meets her, she's quiet and sullen...they agree on something that opens their world up. Friendship drabble.
1. Meeting

She's small, young – pretty, if you can get past the scowl wrought over her features, and the dead squirrel hanging over her back. Her steps are light as a doe's, never to be noticed, never seeming to break twigs. Light as a feather.

But he notices, and follows, watching her footfalls through the woods. Golden sunlight casts a soft warm look on her face, and he struggles to remember her, because she's vaguely familiar. She lurks in the back of his mind now. He's pensive for a minute, trying to recall her – even though Seam girls are the same, practically, she's different somehow. Maybe it's because even though her ribs are showing beneath her hand-me-down clothing, she's got the stubbornness on her face that he can't help but admire. He feels like he's admired it before, even if she seemed like she was sad…sad. But why?

He floats over the dead leaves, quieter then her. Until she halts, transfixed, then steps forward. Anger flashes; he works hard to keep his family alive, and here she is, fingering _his _trap, the delicate knots performed by fingers.

Her gray eyes take in everything, but he's out of hiding before he can stop, and he growls, "That's dangerous." She's silent, studying him, and he knows she recognizes him. But from where?

"What's your name?" He takes the rabbit from the snare and puts it into his gamebag, almost defiantly, and waiting for anger, fear maybe.

Instead, the girl doesn't look at him and mumbles, "Catnip." He hesitates, because it's an odd name for even a Seam kid, but he's still mad. His rabbit.

"Well," He says, studying his snare intently as he resets it, then stares at her hard, and he can tell she finds him menacing even though she's not exactly afraid, "Catnip, stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?"

"Katniss." She corrects, still not making eye contact, "And I wasn't stealing it. I just wanted to look at your snare. Mine never catch anything." She falls silent, and then she lifts her blue-grey eyes so that he can see that she's hidden all emotion. Void, sullen, waiting.

He snorts, because why should he believe a kid? "Then where'd you get the squirrel?"

Something flickers very briefly in her eyes, but he knows what it means – what, you don't think I'm capable? She brings a bow off of her back, and holds it in her dirty hands, "I shot it."

He's transfixed; he doesn't have one, but he wonders if she can get him one before he dismisses it. "Can I see it?" He asks nonetheless."

She's wary, and replies, "Just remember, stealing's punishable by death." A ghost of a smile flickers over his features, but she makes no reply. She's like him, he can see that. A young child trying to support her family, knowing that tessarae can't cover it all.

He wants one, a bow like it, and before he can tell her that, she says she can get him one. Teach him how to use it for a trade, but not food. Knowledge. She wants the wisdom of the woods, and he can already see she's athome here. She wouldn't be a bad partner, and so he agrees, though he's got a feeling that she might be a pain in the neck.

Too bad she walks off after they talk, and he follows her, far enough behind that she doesn't notice. He wants to see something.

He gets his wish – the girl pulls her bow off her back, and puts her arrow in place. She pulls the taut wire, and he can't help it – his eyes are wide because it's that good a shot.

That small little girl? That defiant child? Well. You learn something every day.

Not that it matters, because he'll teach her then let her go because trust is hard these days.


	2. Warmer

She's a good hunter, agile and quick. Smart, too. She understands the woods like he does, and she knows animal instinct, but not like he does. That's one thing he takes pride in, knowing where they'll run across his traps. He doesn't try to be careful with pride, but it's obvious he doesn't have talent in a lot of areas - school, nah. Torture, really, because it doesn't matter; it's all about _them_, when he just wants to forget. Even though he doesn't like her, or so he thinks, he has to admit she helps him forget.

It's about a month after they met, and she's still not smiled once, even though he couldn't help his grin a few times. Now he wants to pinch himself because he waits for her, and he looks for her. Or her approval. Her lessons.

He doesn't have nearly as good a shot as her - she's just that good. For some reason, it makes him a little mad, because he never expected that from the girl. Catnip. He doesn't tell her that he still thinks of her as Catnip, either. She'd kill him, he knows. Deadly stare she's got, he sees that when she glares at the flouncy rich girls in town. They've only seen each other in town once, but that was enough for him to see she's not very happy with them - she was glaring at a girl twirling in a prissy pink dress. She doesn't like them. Hates them, in fact.

Today they meet where they've been meeting for the past while, and she's already got her bow. He notes that her fingers are a stained purple, she's been eating berries. He knows she likes blackberries. (She doesn't outright say it, and it's hard to tell, but she eats them more than any other berry.)

He knows that she's barely twelve, would die for her sister (he sees it when he's watching her at school. Not that he watches her, notices her, rather), she has a hard time trusting, she works for her family, she likes blackberries, she's an excellent hunter, stubborn, determined, and tries not to show too much emotion.

"Katniss." He greets, albeit coldly perhaps. She responds by twitching her fingers on her bow, but follows him into the woods. They stop and check her first snare, and she's frowning because it's obvious an animal got in. And out. But her annoyance turns to steely determination, and she quickly attempts to fix it. He has to help her a bit, but she is better.

She looks at him, for approval, when she's done with the second snare. He's a little surprised, but he nods nevertheless and gives that glimmer of a smile he sometimes does. Gotta hand it to the kid, she looks like she doesn't care already. She's on her feet, ready to bounce off.

He doesn't know where this comes from, but he asks, "I recognized you from somewhere but I can't place where." Actually, that's been bothering him. She looks upset for a minute, but it dies on her face and hardens into a mask of calm.

"Guess it couldn't be that hard to forget." She's emotional, that's why she's spitting out the words as if they're foul, he thinks. Hopes, because this could ruin what little civility they have. They're trying so hard not to trust, but, well...they're already looking for approval, so what's that got to mean? That they could be friends?

"Why?" He asks. Pressing too hard could mean trouble...but...

"Same mining accident." She looks upset again, only for a minute, and then she says, "I saw you there. It took yours, too. My dad - he taught me this." She gestured to the bow, and looked small for a minute (he had begun to think of her as taller than she was, because she was so tough). Then, she's pulled that mask of calm again. "How'd you learn?"

He doesn't reply for a minute, because he remembers now. The girl who led her mother who looked more dead then alive to accept her medal. The girl who quieted her mother. Who only let a single tear fall. He wonders if she cried when she was alone, because that's the kind of thing that Katniss would do. Never let people see her weak.

He remembers she asked him something, but says, "Somewhat. A bit. Bet your a lot like him."

She frowns, "was a lot like him," She turns quickly, and he can see her trying to calm herself, because it hurts to remember this all. She's been trying to forget, he can tell that right off. But it's too late, it's all opened up again, and she says, "He made this. Made yours too."

He looks at he fine bow, runs his fingers down it. The girl looks at him, then dances off into the woods again. He knows what she's thinking. _Talking? Too close, too close_. They'll push away again, he thinks. He's kind of disappointed, and is immediately trying to get rid of that thought. No. Can't get close.

Well, he can't deny the first breakthrough with the girl. She's a catlike hunter, with feline grace. And he admires it. He wants to talk to her.

She's looking at a bird on a branch, and he catches one small chirp from her lips before she seals them again. The bird chirps back, and then breaks into a series of that one note chirp. Mockingjay. She seems to like them.

His list is just getting longer and longer. She's catlike, likes mockingjays, is like her father, seems to have the ability to sing (though he can't really tell), and she misses her father.


	3. Catnip

She hasn't smiled since he met her, and he's beginning to try to get her to. Simply because he thinks it's odd, she's too...young to go around looking like that, a girl void of emotion. A warrior who supports her family. Of course, he's got to admit it's better than some girls here, who depend on everything to be done for them.

Her expression is as smooth as the unbroken water in the bucket by her door, and he wonders vaguely why it's there. But he's got other concerns, like the reaping is in a week and it's her first one. And she says nothing at all, but she's got to be nervous. If not for herself, for the seven year old blonde girl Prim. Her sister, who she would die for. Who she would feel agony for the child rather herself come death.

They meet at her house today, not the woods, and she's apologizing (not in a town girl way, just explaining things, "Normally I leave by now." She says, "But I had a problem."

She's pissed, and she looks back into her house, where he can hear a girl reassuring something and crooning. He hesitates, "What's going on?"

She blows out a long breath as a skinny animal stalks out of the house and regards her with menacing yellow eyes. It lets out a long hiss, and her reply is to hiss back. It's wet, he notes. Wet. He looks at the bucket of water, putting two and two together. Prim dashes out of the house and scoops the animal up, "I named it Buttercup" She announces, her sweet expression angelic and pleased.

The older snorts. "Buttercup. Because he's such a kind cat." The younger looks wounded, and rubs her hands over the damp clumps of fur on its mangy back, even causing some to come out, which ensures more worry.

"Don't hurt him, please, Katniss. He's just looking for a home, and he'll die out there. Please don't do it. Don't cook him." She glances at the bucket of water, and clutches the cat tighter, rubbing her cheek along the fur.

He sighs, "Listen, I'll meet you in the woods. Soon." He gives her, (the one who looks like she wants to be anywhere but here) a warning glance.

She waves him off and mutters, "Yeah, I'll be there shortly. Give me a minute."

He waits until he's well out of earshot to start laughing lightly, because it's just so funny and he knows that Katniss isn't going to harm the cat because of Prim. It's nice, he thinks, because it shows something he can't reach in Katniss.

He waits at the edge of the woods, and she's running to him a few moments later, cussing and saying she's gonna scalp the animal. But then she's quiet, she's always quiet, and he notes two drops of blood on her wrist. So the cat bit her...Buttercup bit her.

He smiles at her, knowing there's no way that she's going to return it, but he's amused nonetheless. This is the way things work. But really, he knows he's not that far off from that smile. Someday. "Catnip." He calls her, once, teasingly and very softly.

"Catnip?" She asks, and then remembers. And it's there. There it is. And it's so innocent and quick and gone so fast he doesn't know if he believes it. She's smiled.

What he knows about her today: she hates Buttercup, and would absolutely do anything (anything) for her sister Prim. And that the stupid cat bit her.

And best of all, he knows that she's okay with him calling her Catnip, because there's no way he's going to get that out of his head.

**So short...but it's a drabble, so I'm okay with it. Next chapter; first time trading at the Hob. At least together.**


	4. Trading

They're in the woods, heck, they're always in the woods. At least when they're a 'they' rather two people who'd very much not like people to know they're acquaintances. Though she thinks they do.

First time for everything, she thinks, looking at him out of the corner of her grey eyes. She's mad because he's even carrying her bags; her fingers and palms are rope burned, but not badly, but enough that he noticed. It isn't that terrible, not really, but he smirks at her now. She wants to throw a fit, wants to be stubborn, and he can tell.

So they're walking into the Hob together, and she's glowering like a wounded tiger and hating the amusement on his features. "Katniss." He nudges her, and she feels like Buttercup, she wants to lash out so bad. Hiss, she thinks. He nudges her again, "Get that look off your face, it doesn't go well with the locals."

"You think I haven't been here?" She retorts, but her face isn't contorted anymore. She even pulls a half-look of happiness. But not a smile - he hasn't seen that glimmer in awhile. They're almost there, and she sees a girl from school that responds by whispering to her friend. She puts on the loftiest look she can muster and ignores the girl.

She sees his grimace, too; they both hate them, but she thinks it's for different reasons. He hates the Capitol with vengeance (and it's obvious the rich are favored come reaping), she just hates them, because they don't know life like she has to. She plows on, pushing the door through the Hob, and stops as the rancid smell of liquor and cigarette smoke, warm stew and blood all come together. She hasn't been in here a lot, less then she says. She doesn't tell him it was her father who took her here mostly.

She realizes she's still standing and staring at all the various stalls – it's more crowded then it was a week ago (she does come in here sometimes, later. Early morning, when it's safer) and then he presses a finger into her back. She moves forward, and grabs her bag off of his shoulders. It hurts (a little) and serves a reminder for what she did, fighting the rope to actually knot correctly. He was off checking his own snares, and she let herself get frustrated.

She feels him watch her for a minute, then she peeks back when she's certain his gaze has dropped. It has; he's gone to trade. She sighs – good – she isn't a child. Though that's what he thinks, most probably. She can trade without him.

Greasy Sae is watching him when she drops her bag on the counter, and they talk prices and fees. Sae asks if she's working with him, and she sighs a response; some people don't seem to like it too much. But Sae smiles a little and says that's a good thing, then goes back to her business. Practically leaves her alone in the Hob.

She works her way around, then meets back up with him, after he stands and talks to Sae for practically ever. She quips at him, quickly, "Got anything good?"

He watches her walk off then, after nodding. Notices her go to a stall, and hover by it, talking with a burly man. A man he doesn't trust, whose got a leery grin on his face as he observes the young girl.

That's not the only thing that worries him - surely Katniss can get a good price from him, right? He starts to hand her something, and Gale strains to see what's in his dirt-stained hands. The girl looks at the food desperately, and he encircles his hand around her wrist. "Com'on, Catnip. I can get you some of that. I get the tessarae."

She looks at him and says, "Can't take from your family."

"Fine." He says, barely masking his annoyance, "But I'll give you a better trade than he was going to!"

She twists in his grip, but agrees sullenly, and he says, "Shush, Catnip. Come on." Something's bothering her, he thinks. "You okay?"

She looks at him, and confesses, "I haven't traded much. Only with my father."

He nods and says, "Shouldn't have stopped you, I guess. It takes practice. Sometimes mistakes. Always bargain a little more than you think you can get."

She nods again, twisting the bag in her burned hands.

They start to walk out, and he says, "You save me that squirrel, I'll get you some bread, okay?"

She makes a small noise and says, "Yeah - but I can wait, I guess. Reaping's in two days." She winces, and he runs his hand through his hair.

He can protect her from the burly man in the hob, but he can't save her from putting her name on those slips of paper. He can't save her from the Capitol.


	5. Safe

Reaping day.

He fears this day, even though he shouldn't fear anything - so he just looks mad the whole morning, slamming cabinets and scaring his younger siblings. Rory's offended, and stubbornly glowers at his older brother, and Posy, the baby, is howling.

His mother, with her tired eyes, just looks at him plaintively before (kindly) asking him if he wouldn't mind leaving for an hour or two, because she has things to do. She looks so sad, that he leans down and kisses her forehead. "Mom, I'll be all right." He reassures.

Hazel lets out this ghostly sigh, like she wants to believe him and knows she just can't. Her voice trembles ever so slightly as she whispers, "Of course you will. Of course." But she won't cry; they're stronger than that. He ruffles Posy's soft hair, and thumps Rory's shoulder (who loudly whines, "Owww! Mom, Gale hit me!")

Just as he's thrown open the heavy oak door, there she is, little Catnip, with one hand out and ready to knock. She leaps away slightly and studies his face. Her face is harder than ever, and he can't help but thinks she's completely impassive until he notices.

She's trembling.

He can't do anything about this, can't take her and tell her it's going to be all right, not the way he did with his mother...because you never know, and Catnip will just hate him. So he says, "Woods?"

"Woods." She murmurs lightly in response. Her hands are twisting lightly, and he spies a scratch on her cheek. He points to it, hoping that it'll divert her from her nervousness, and she sighs. "The cat."

He laughs, but it's fake. Obviously fake. "Com'on, Catnip."

She scowls lightly, but walks ahead of him. He watches her, the way her feet land in the soft dirt of the roads with an aura of confidence despite everything life's thrown at her. Sees that her clothes are ratty and don't fit right, but it doesn't bother her to much. Only.

Only today, she's kind of nervous.

But, who isn't?

Finally, when they get to the electric fence that's never on, she looks at him and says, "I have to do it." Her gray Seam eyes are far away, but strong. "Gale," She meets his eyes for the first time and says clearly, "Promise me this; if you - I'm picked, take care if my family, and if you're picked, I'll take care of yours."

He looks at her. She'll take care of Hazel and the kids, but he knows she only really wants to keep Prim safe.

He breaks eye contact briefly and promises, shaking her small hand in his. Wondering if his luck will hold out, if his name won't be called.

He laughs mentally, harshly. And watches her as she works harder than ever in a terrible effort to forget.

* * *

Later, he Effie's standing there in a flowery teal dress, her cheeks powder white and her wig stiff with tight curls. "May the odds _ever _be in your favor!" Katniss tips forward slightly, and all he can think is, 'don't faint', but of course, she doesn't.

"Ladies first!" Like it's that exhilarating. Right.

Not her, not her, no...it's not her. He breathes, then tenses.

And it's over.

He's still alive. They both are.

**So the drabble commences...and I seem to like writing from Gale's position more that Katniss's, so I think I'm going to continue this way. **

**I guess this will have twenty chapters or so, maybe more, but I'm planning on focusing on this until it's done, then going to back to my other stories. **

**~HorseStar**

**Of course, reviews are appreciated. :D**


	6. Summer

They are both in high spirits; midsummer to fall prove plentiful in food supply, and even though she's quiet, he can tell she's happy.

He watches her from the limb of a tree, half-asleep beneath the beaming sun. She's sitting by the gurgling creek, her feet dangling in. He's caught by how vulnerable she looks there, and closes his eyes lazily, thinking - well, I'm stuck with her now.

Sometimes, he wishes they would talk more. Sometimes, he thinks there's enough said between them, because...they both knew what Seam life was like...they would just know everything said as it was said, and that would be that.

So he didn't entirely care she was quiet; and asides from that, neither truly trusted each other...after all, he thought, trust _was _hard to come by. He didn't need her to remind him that it was so.

He supposed he dozed off, because when he awakens, the sun's almost gone. So's she. He stands, and looks around slightly, albeit worriedly, and raises his voice (while thinking in vague annoyance that this is going to scare everything within a mile radius), "Katniss?"

"Here." She's standing behind him, her game bag full. He takes her in, her dirty face and hands and bare feet and lets out a long sigh. "You could have woken me."

A slight glimmer of a smile on her face, but he notices that he looks exhausted. She tosses her thick plaited hair and replies casually, "You looked tired."

"No kidding." He mutters after her, "I was _asleep_, Katniss." He doesn't think she actually caught it, until she turns back to him, swinging her game bag as she does so.

She raises an eyebrow and remarks, "Ok, fine, you looked _content_." She spits the word spitefully, but he knows she's not really serious. In a way, he thinks she's kind of afraid to get close to him. So he nods thoughtfully in response, and says, "Same thing, asleep and content anyway."

It is, too. You forget about being hungry all the time. You forget about the mines, the dirt, the grim, the starved, the reaping...

She studies him, and says, "Yeah." They're silent. "The sun's going down."

She starts to walk, but he stays, leaning against the tree, watching the limber child walking away. She's just a little kid, he thinks, and it's so terribly unfair, what they go through.

"Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He rolls his eyes, and retorts, "Catnip."

"My name is _not _Catnip."

"Speak up, can't hear you." She just turns and raises an eyebrow. He remarks, "Well, _Catnip_, if you had spoken up in the first place I would've known your name."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She mimics him and throws a hand on her hip. He can see her thinking.

"Thought we had to go; the sun's leavin'. Come on, Catnip."

He smirks as the fuming child follows him.

**Sooo short...but I liked the ending.**


End file.
